lipstick
by planet p
Summary: AU; a continuation of "wake up, do". Buzzer/New Jen


**lipstick** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _Doctor Who_ or any of its characters.

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><p>Jacob turned on Ashlee Simpson's album, "Autobiography", and walked to the bathroom adjoining her room, her feet padding softly on the soft carpet. Today was a good day; today, she was meeting Buzzer in the evening. Though it wasn't really his scene, he had agreed to accompany her to the nightclub a couple of her female co-workers had invited her to. She'd called him on the phone a week ago and it had come up, she couldn't quite remember how that had happened, but she was pleased that she would soon be seeing him again; she could hardly wait until tonight to talk to him again, but she'd promised herself that she wouldn't fluster him, pester him. He had a job, too.<p>

She wasn't so sure about the name, she had it scribbled down in Deewah's bubbly scrawl, on a hot pink Post-It - Vyneyaad Intergalaktika Internationale - but she supposed it could be fun. Her one consoling thought, to the jittery way she felt about a 'nightclub', was that she'd be with friends, that she'd be able to see Buzzer again.

At the time that it had come up, she'd been too taken aback to say much, to say 'no', even. The place was real, it existed; she'd looked it up on her uTab, on the web.

She brushed her dark hair, in the mirror, and inspected her complexion, deciding the makeup to apply today; on today's face. Pulling open the cupboard door, she took out her makeup things. She usually didn't wear a lot of makeup, but, tonight, she decided, she'd be wearing lipstick, instead of lip balm. She may even wear mascara.

.

"Who's this friend you're inviting?" Skye asked, turning in her wheelie chair and peering across at her with intent grey eyes. "Tell's. I mean, she's not your big sis or cuz or somethin'?"

"She's a he," Jacob replied simply.

Skye squee'd loudly, eyes shining brightly. "Is he gay?"

Jacob frowned, annoyed by this assumption. "I don't know."

Skye's eyes widened and she leant closer. "You don't _know_?" she asked, in hushed tones.

"No. I do not."

Skye chewed on this new piece of info, for a few moments, before nodding. O.K. "What's his name? Wait! Don't tell me! Let me guess!" She jammed her stormy greys closed and pressed her fingers to her temples, as though in concentration.

Jacob sighed, weary of her co-worker making such a big thing of it, already, though it had only just begun. Skye was an expert at "making a big thing of it".

Deewah appeared behind her, hot pink fingernails drumming on her shoulder. "What's up, girlas?"

"Shhh!" Skye hissed loudly, keeping her eyes closed. "Travis!"

"No." Jacob didn't know what else to say.

Deewah's eyes suddenly shifted her to face and she stepped back, the better to gape at her. "Jake's... with someone?" she asked, in disbelief.

Jacob shook her head. _No, I am not. Skye's having one of her "moments"._

Deewah frowned, her attention returning to Skye.

"Troy!" the other woman declared now.

"No."

Skye snapped open her eyes, huffing loudly. "Give's a clue, gf. What's it start with?"

Jacob frowned. "'B'," she answered, finally. "His name begins with a 'b'."

"Barty!" Skye gasped, and Deewah dissolved into highly amused shrieks of laughter, a hand gripping Jacob's shoulder helplessly.

Skye was absolutely _obsessed_ with that name! It had to be, like, her favourite guy's name _eva_. She'd once said that it was the name of her soul mate. Future soul mate, anyway. Apparently, a fortune-teller had informed her of this fact on her 11th birthday.

"No, it's not Barty," Jacob replied calmly.

"Then what is it, for Pete's sake?" Skye huffed. "My brain hurts!"

"Buzzer."

Skye was completely serious, for an instant, then- "That's not a real name! Where'd you meet this guy, anyway? On the net, or something? Gods, Jake! You know that stuff's not savoury. Those guys are all..."

"Not who they say they are," Deewah finished, with a sensible nod.

"No," Jacob replied, looking from one woman to the other. "We used to work together."

_Gay_, Skye mouthed.

Deewah cracked up.

"Do you _know_ his real name?" Skye asked, ignoring her friend's loud laughter.

"No."

Skye spun 360 degrees in her chair, immaculately sculpted eyebrows rising. "Wow!" She widened her eyes knowingly. "You know, Jake, love, it hasn't escaped my eagle eye that you're wearing lipstick today."

Deewah, pressing a hand to her midriff to hopefully stem the flow of laughter, glanced at her closely. Holy ship! She _was_ wearing lipstick!

"Someone's H2," Skye said, then added: "Translation: Hopeful for hook-up," holding up a finger on _hopeful_, then another on _hook-up_.

Jacob frowned at her. "Oh, I am not! We're not... like that," she defended flatly. "We're just friends. I'm not even... attracted to him, in that way."

Skye nodded. Oh sure. Sure. That was what all the girls said, and then, Bop! Flat on their asses in the icky tug-my-heartstrings/sail-me-into-the-blazing-sunset, singing-violins-seem-to-have-become-your-shadow-(dirty stalkers!), I'll-be-your-eye-candy-if-you'll-be-mine mess. N-o-t cute, girly! "You're into him, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Deewah pointed. "Denial 101, babe-yo."

"I have nothing to be in denial of," Jacob replied simply.

"You think he's cute," Skye put words into her mouth. "Yummy!"

Jacob shot to her feet. Without a word, she vacated her cubicle and swept away, leaving the two women to stare after her in horror and amazement. Then she heard the sound of teasing laughter. Oh, those mean things! They just thought they knew it all, didn't they!

Jacob hurried down the hallway, to the bathroom, and pushed the door open with haste, her hand shaking on the wood. Before she knew it, she'd wiped away her lipstick onto a piece of paper towelling and tears were peeking from her eyes, rushing down her cheeks to drip from her chin into the basin. Splish, splish.

Oh, it just wasn't true! Sh-she wasn't attracted to Buzzer that way! How could she be? Her friends didn't know it, but that didn't change the fact: she was Flesh, she wasn't _human_. She wasn't like Buzzer at all. He... he deserved someone... someone like himself, she thought, as fresh tears burst from her eyes.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she was appalled at the sight. She turned sharply from the disgusting picture, hunching over and hiding her face with her hands as more tears came. For some reason, thinking about it only made it worse, though she knew, 100 percent believed, it completely true. Buzzer was a friend, no more. He could never be anything more. It just wasn't practical... possible.

She ran for a cubicle just as the door was opened and someone joined her in the bathroom. Tears silently coursed down her face, a warm, heart-breaking carress.

.

She wasn't sure that she would be going to the club, later on. She sat on the sofa for too long, doing nothing, staring at her palms blankly, at the lines indented there. Eventually, she reminded herself that she'd made a promise; Buzzer would be expecting to see her. She couldn't let him down, drop him in the deep end like that. It would be... unspeakable horrid.

With shaking legs, she drew herself to her feet and stumbled from the room. She couldn't go clubbing dressed like this.

.

She'd even went out on a limb and added some mascara to her eyelashes, but all that was ruined now; she'd broke down in tears in the taxi and it wasn't until she'd tried to wipe her tears away with a scented tissue that she'd dug out of her purse that she'd noticed that her mascara had run; it wasn't waterproof. It had been enough to send her into another round of tears.

She stood out the club for a long time, in the dark and cold, before finally stepping inside, amongst the bustle, the brutal pulsing, strobing lights, the racket that made it hard for her to think. She made her way unsteadily through the crowd, towards the bar, trying not to show fear, trying not to start crying all over again, and spied her friends.

Deewah was beautiful in a tight, gold number, her luscious dark hair down, for a change, and cascading about her shoulders in soft waves. Skye had chosen a pair of bleached skinny jeans, red and purple Converses, and a cropped Kiss T-shirt, with a good view of her tanned, fit midriff.

In contrast, Jacob felt clunky and unattractive, thoroughly daft, in her dark blue satin dress, falling just short of her knees and far too loose about her middle to show off anything. She kept worrying the thin spaghetti straps would tumble off her shoulders, if she really moved, if she danced, and her hand kept sneaking up to her shoulder to feel if it was okay.

She was certain, now, that it had been a mistake, her coming here tonight.

"Aren't you a dream, boo!" Skye assessed her appearance, with a big, bright grin. She was exaggerating, and grossly, but Jacob was too dispirited to even point this out.

"Perk up, babe-yo," Deewah encouraged. "Lift up those shoulders and give a smile a spin. You'll be amazed, I promise."

They sat at the bar for a good fifteen minutes - Skye leaving to dance with a young man, for a spell, before returning to gulp down a cranberry and vodka - Jacob sipping her own cranberry and vodka and feeling pointedly down, until-

"Dearie me! The poor dear looks as though he might've fallen off the back of a truck!"

Jacob sadly lifted her sorry gaze from her drink and made an effort to peer in the direction of the "poor dear" Deewah had spotted. Oh, gosh! She was off her stool in a wink, hurrying away from the bar. She didn't even register Deewah's heavy sigh and accompanying, "Say it ain't so, babe-yo!"

She threw her arms around Buzzer and clung to him tightly. "I thought you'd never come! I thought... you'd gotten lost! Oh, you should've rung! I was so... I've been so tired. But now I'm better, 'cause you're here." Realising that she was overdoing it, she released him and stepped back, putting some distance between them. "I'm so happy to see you," she finally said, quietly.

"Pardon, love?"

She raised her voice. "I'm... It's great to see you!" she corrected, forcing back a blush that threatened to creep into her cheeks. Oh, it was so loud in here!, she suddenly realised. "You look well."

"So do you."

She smiled.

Seeing her smile, Buzzer seemed to cool a little, towards her, suddenly, and glanced at the floor, for a moment, hands in his pockets. "I..." He looked up, stepped a tad closer, speaking more loudly than before: "For a while there, I thought I'd gotten myself hopelessly lost. I began to think I'd never find this place. But here it is. Here I am."

She nodded, inching closer. She laughed, but it came out forced, try-hard. "Oh, you haven't met my friends, have you! I'll introduce you!" She started to hold out her hand, then returned it to her side. Silly... silly thought. Silly woman.

At the bar, Deewah was on her feet, one hand holding her martini, still sitting on the bar top. Now, she nodded. "Buzzer, isn't it?" She gulped down the remainder of her martini and reached over to shake his hand.

"That's right."

Deewah nodded once more, said: "But, tell me, what's it, really? Barry?"

"Robert," Buzzer replied.

Jacob glanced at him earnestly. That was his name? Oh, how silly she was, to not know it! Not to have known it.

"Pleased to meetcha, Robbie," Deewah returned. "Deewah's me."

"Ah..." Buzzer smiled, briefly, flushed.

Jacob stared at her friends. Suddenly, it was too hot. Was it the club, or was it her? Was Deewah flirting with her "poor dear"? Jacob's head hurt. Why was it so loud in here? Her heart was pounding too fast, too hard. Abruptly, she lurched away from the pair, towards the dance floor. She just had to get away from this, from... whatever this was!

Her eyes stung, as though she might break down in tears again, and she ran towards the toilets. Something stopped her. Someone. Someone's hand holding hers.

She spun back around, feeling distinctly on the verge of making a real fool of herself, sobs and all, and saw that it was Buzzer, concern in his eyes. She hardly felt better at all.

"Are you okay, Jacob?" he asked, and suddenly, she couldn't think why she'd chosen a stupid man's name over Joanna or Joyce, or any other name at all.

She nodded mutely, afraid that, if she opened her mouth to speak, tears would spill from her eyes, thoroughly betraying her.

"You sure, hon?"

She nodded again. Croaked, "Yes."

"Pardon?"

"Yes," she repeated, a little more boldly. To her surprise, her voice didn't crack, the waterworks didn't begin.

"In... in that case..." He frowned, trying to find the right words. "W-would you like to dance, J-Jacob? Would that... be okay?"

She froze, struck by lightning and welded to spot. She couldn't... couldn't think. Her thoughts were slow, sluggish. Forming words felt like wading through waist-deep mud. "Of course," she finally managed. Her legs shook. She became afraid that she might fall over, in her impractical high heels.

Buzzer smiled at her, but that only made it worse, the feeling inside that she was melting, made of marshmallow, rather than flesh and bone, and his gaze was a fire, warming her to the core, dooming her, surely.

She had to- to pull her gaze away. Get herself together.

"That's great."

She suddenly remembered that he was holding her hand, that he hadn't let go. Heat rushed to her cheeks; little pink roses blossomed there. Heaven help her, she wouldn't be able to take this much more!

When Buzzer stepped closer, releasing her hand from his, at last, so that it fell lifelessly back to her side, awkwardly, her heart plunged strangely; but when he drew her into his arms, it started right back up again, the thrill of warmth blazing through her so intense she thought she might combust, she thought her heart might turn to cinders, right there! Oh, to be held so near, so tenderly, to feel her heart beating so wildly, to see her old friend's eyes gazing into hers so warmly, so intensely-

She just had to bite her lip.

_Dear, dear me_, she thought, to keep her mind from other thoughts. _Oh dear, oh goodness me!_ The attempt was doomed from the start. She couldn't help but melt a little more under Buzzer's - Robert's - gaze, _in his arms_. And then she felt something new, some inner strength took hold of her, and it was nothing like the strength she'd felt back on the island, it was oooh _so much_ better! She couldn't believe she'd never felt _this_ before. This... courage!

"I didn't know you could dance, Buzz!" she teased, close to his ear, in a voice barely above a breath, and a delicious smile curved her lips. She was _so_ naughty! His hair smelt so nice.

"You'd be surprised, doll," he smiled. "I think you'll find I'm a man of many talents."

.

Out on the dance floor, herself, Deewah paused, her eyes finding Jacob and Robert. The woman looked so happy, so _alive_, it occurred to her what a good idea this had been. She'd never seen Jacob so happy before. She grinned and flashed a cute smile to the man dancing with her. _Heya! Don't think I've forgotten you, cute stuff!_

.

The chillness of the night nipped at Jacob's cheek, but only because she felt so warm inside, so happy. She couldn't have cared at all if it started raining, right then and there. She'd had such a good time!

Standing close to Buzzer on the footpath, waiting for the taxi, holding his hand in hers, she watched her friends, for a moment. For the first time, she'd started thinking of them as her friends, rather than just her co-workers. She felt strangely like hugging them.

Smiling, she looked around, looking for the taxi, and she caught sight of Buzzer's face, the bright, exuberant expression in his eyes, the colour in his cheeks. He didn't look sad anymore; he didn't look like someone who'd given up on life. She wanted to laugh... or kiss him. Definitely kiss him!

But they weren't alone. She could never share something so intimate as a kiss with onlookers. Onlookers who'd likely start laughing, or break out in whistles, if they saw. These thoughts running through her head, she realised how much she wanted to make that little fantasy come true, how much she really wanted to share an exciting, tender kiss with Buzzer.

"Oh, here's our ride!" Skye exclaimed, laughing happily into the foggy night air. Deewah's hand came to rest lightly on her arm.

"You two go ahead," she said, to Jacob and Buzzer. "I'm sure you've got a _tonne_ of stuff to catch up on."

"Oh, no, not r-" Jacob fell silent. Oh! Oh, Deewah was trying to lend a helping hand. She'd seen the look in her eyes, the need there, and she'd felt for her. She felt a wave of happiness - she had friends!; friends who _understood_ - and embarrassment, all rolled into one jumpy little package. She held tighter to Buzzer's hand, and stepped in the direction of the taxi that had pulled up at the kerb.

His hand went to her back before he noticed she was right, she was just going to catch the cab.

She smiled at him invitingly, feeling out of her depth but happy to be so, feeling daring and alive and female; her! "Walk me to my door?"

He smiled. "Happily, Jacob."

.

He did end up walking her to her door, but he didn't stop there, and she didn't want him to. Inside, she closed the door after them and placed her hands on his arms, adoring the feeling of touching him, and pushed him back against the door with a little thud. She closed her lips over his.


End file.
